


A Daring Rescue

by avesnongrata



Series: Maria/Natasha Ficlet Collection [4]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 17:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1991436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avesnongrata/pseuds/avesnongrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria is having a really rough night. Natasha comes to her rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Daring Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a tumblr anon, who prompted me with the pairing and the line of dialogue, "I just really need to have you here right now."
> 
> (cw: alcohol, panic attacks, PTSD)

When Natasha gets the text, she immediately knows something is wrong. She grabs her jacket from the back of the sofa and is halfway out the door before Clint even realizes she’s moved.

“Where are you going?” he asks, puzzled.

“Out.”

“But Nat, it’s a school night,” he starts to tease, but Natasha gives him a _look_ and he immediately changes his tone. “Shit. Do you need backup?”

Natasha tries to breathe through the tightness in her chest. “I doubt it. I’ll let you know.” She closes the door on Clint’s response.

Her phone is in her hand as she charges down the stairs. She re-reads Maria’s text, noting again the lack of her usual flawless capitalization, punctuation and spelling, which is what alerted her to the problem in the first place.

She types out a response: _where r u?_

When Maria’s response finally comes, she’s already reached the bottom of the stairs and is halfway to the nearest corner. It’s an address, slightly garbled like the first text, but according to her maps app it’s accurate enough.

Natasha texts back: _stay put, brt_

Thankfully, the cab she hails gets her across town in record time, in an impressive display of questionably legal driving. If she remembers later, she’ll have to give the cabbie’s name to the S.H.I.E.L.D. recruitment office.

She finds herself in front of an exceptionally gritty dive bar, which does little to help her sense of unease. The whole place smells like warm beer and old cigarettes, and it’s so poorly lit that it takes even her keen eyes longer than usual to spot Maria sitting by herself in the far corner. Natasha approaches her cautiously, assessing the situation. Maria is slumped against the wall, barely upright, smelling strongly of bourbon. She stares blankly off into space, and it takes her a moment to realize Natasha is there.

Maria struggles to focus her eyes. “What’re you doing here?” she slurs.

“You texted me, remember?” Maria only blinks fuzzily at her, and Natasha’s stomach twists anxiously. “What’s going on, Hill? You’re a mess.”

Maria laughs bitterly, swaying in her seat. “You should’ve seen me last year. And the year before.”

 _Right._ Natasha doesn't know any of the details, but she’s known enough soldiers over the years to put the pieces together. _Shit._ She’s decidedly unqualified to handle this situation.

“Do you want me to call Sam? He can probably help.”

“Nah, I’ve been talking to him all week. I don’t think there’s anything else he can do at this point.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha’s pretty sure she knows the answer before she even asks.

Maria shakes her head vehemently, which only serves to disorient her even more. She pitches forward, going a little green. Natasha reaches out instinctively to steady her, but Maria flinches away from her touch. Natasha scans the bar, searching for the nearest way out as Maria’s breaths start to come faster and faster and her body starts to shake.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Natasha offers her hand and to her relief Maria takes it, letting her half guide, half carry her out of the bar.

The fresh air seems to help. At least, Maria stops shaking and leans less heavily on Natasha’s shoulders. Natasha prompts her to keep breathing, to keep walking, anything to keep her from panicking outright. By the time they reach Maria’s apartment building a few blocks away, they’re both a little calmer, though Maria is by no means any less drunk. Natasha silently thanks whoever is listening that Maria lives in a building with an elevator; it would’ve taken her forever to help her up the stairs in this state.

Once they’ve made it safely into Maria’s apartment, Natasha fetches her a glass of water, then helps her out of her clothes and into a clean set of pajamas. She helps Maria into bed and lets her kiss her. It’s sloppy and tastes faintly of liquor, but otherwise the kiss feels safe and familiar. Natasha wonders briefly if she’ll ever get used to feeling this comfortable with another person.

When Maria tries to slide her hands under her shirt, however, she pulls away gently. “Not tonight. Not when you’re this drunk,” Natasha insists firmly. She takes a few steps backward, out of Maria’s reach.

Maria looks hurt, then embarrassed, and then – to Natasha’s horror – she actually starts to cry. “Please, don’t leave. I just really need to have you here right now.”

Natasha’s first instinct is to close herself off, to back away, to get out of there as fast as she can, and a few months ago she might have done just that. Now, though, she finds herself nudging Maria over so she can stretch out next to her on her bed. She lets Maria curl up in her arms, and she runs her fingers through her hair until she’s cried herself to sleep.

Once she’s asleep – and only when she’s _sure_ she’s asleep – Natasha kisses her forehead and whispers, “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
